Last Word
by inuyasharbd15fan09
Summary: She stared at him. What did he want? And he told her: He needed her help... again. slight NikkiJason PostUltimatum
1. Chapter 1

**Hope you enjoy! **

_Edited 12/1/07: Just some minor changes. Nothing drastic. Thanks to those who so nicely pointed out my mistakes. Thanks guys. _

* * *

**London, England **

**5:48 PM Eastern Time **

_"- As for the present [debate of uncertainty over the growing [candle over an alleged government assassination program so named BLACKBRIAR, CIA director Edward Craver is under criminal investigation for authorizing the program, which in several cases may have even harmed U.S. Citizens-" _

The reporter's voice grabbed her attention, making her look up from her book. BLACKBRIAR was being discussed over international news, exposed by Agent Landy, she was informed,

_"New Agency officials have already been arrested. Dr. Albert Hierst, the alleged mastermind of the BLACKBRIAR program and CIA director Noah Vosen, the program's operational chief-" _

Could she really help feeling a sense of pride at seeing Hierst and Vosen being led into the vehicles in handcuffs and led by law enforcement to be taken away to a practically decided trial at court? She glanced down, letting out a breath of worry she didn't know she had been holding,

_"Meanwhile, mystery surrounds the [location of David Webb-" _

Her head shot up once more, her eyes widening at the photograph of Jason, rather David on the screen. It was an older picture, Jason's hair out grown a bit of the close cropped hairstyle she had left him in a few days ago. Gripping the edges of the table in anxiety about news of Jason, she leaned in her seat a bit further,

_"-Also known as Jason Bourne, the source of the exposure of the BLACKRIAR program. It's been reported that Webb was shot and fell from a Manhattan roof top in the East River, ten stories below," _

Her fingers slipped from the grip she had on the edge of the table. Shot? Somehow, it seemed surreal. He couldn't be…dead, could he?

_"However, after a three day search, Webb's body is yet to be found." _

Without thinking, a smile appeared in her face, relief ebbing into her body. And they wouldn't find him. She looked down, the smile not gone. He was a long way away from the East River by now. Jason Bourne was not dead.

* * *

Emerging from the entrance of the small pub, she re-adjusted her bag under her sweater clad shoulder and began walking. Slightly tilting her head down, she walked away from the pub and towards her temporary home, a few blocks away. A small weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Jason was okay. She didn't have to worry about _them _finding him now. Though, the small stitch of having heard him injured was still there, she knew he had been off worse back in Morocco, after having killed Desh. Fingering the edge of her short curly black hair in thought, she turned a corner, engulfed in the cool shadow of the complex buildings holding apartments in the street. A few children played soccer running down the street, being more of a sidewalk than a way for cars to drive through. A small crowd were heading towards her, each in their own conversation. To avoid collision, she sidestepped the crowd, not even acknowledged and continued walking. Unfortunately, she didn't measure the precise distance and managed to bump into someone's shoulder. 

"Sorry," she apologized over her shoulder, continuing walking. No reply was heard but she didn't bother. Her apartment was a two blocks away. She paused at a cross section, a few cars driving by slowly having been let to pass. She sighed under her breath.

* * *

_"It get's easier," _he had told her. She had stare at him, in that second having no words to reply back. Deciding to go before she said accumulate words she might later regret, she had turned and boarded the bus, not glancing back to see if he still stood at the platform. Had it really? Did it get easier?

* * *

The lights changed and signaled her to move, which she did. Crowds from both sides maneuvered briskly to get to the other side, bumping into her once in a while. Suddenly, a cell phone rang. She flinched. It was near. Seeing no one talking into a device or picking one up from their coat pockets, she flinched again when she realized the phone that was ringing…came from her sweater pockets. She now noticed the slight bulge of the phone and cautiously pulled it out. But…she didn't own a cell phone. A sense of dread chilled her spine, encouraging to quicken her step. The phone rang again, and she paused, now on the other side of the street, closer to her apartment. Flipping the phone open, she placed it at her ear. "Hello?" Silence. She should have flipped it closed then, but she hesitated. "Hello?" 

"Parsons." she froze.

"…Bourne?" It couldn't be him. He was injured, still in the US. Maybe it was a trick? "How-?" Her feet automatically began to lead her back to her apartment, turning to face the long stair case to the second to the top apartment.

"Was it done?" he asked, his voice void of emotion. Sharp and direct as ever. She drew a blank and stopped, half way up the stairs. Was what done?

"…Do you mean was BLACKBRIAR exposed?"

"Yes."

"It was. Landy had evidence and took it to court," she paused, "Hierst and Vosen have been taken to trial." She could have sworn she heard him sigh, but she wasn't sure. Continuing her step, she walked up the old stairs, not once glancing down. "_Were _you the source? I mean, was it you who exposed those files containing names and the actions of BLACKBRIAR?" the words slipped from her mouth.

"Yes." She gritted her teeth in slight irritation. She wasn't going to get information from him. He was too good. The training had been successful…until he had begun to remember. She paused, all irritation gone, her key in the door. His memory, had he regained it?

"B-Bourne?" She opened her door, in a slight daze, only keening to hear a reply from him. She slammed the door shut, letting her bad drop onto the small chair besides the door. The apartment was simple, some parts bare. She didn't have much. It was dark, the sun should be setting outside but she wasn't sure. She always left the windows and doors closed and locked, after she left. "Are you there?" Silence. She gripped the edge of the sweater, attempting to try to take it off. "…Bourne?" she paused, closing her eyes, "H-Have you - I mean, do you…remember? Have you…recuperated your memory?" The dark sweater fell onto the floor.

"I have." She whipped around, dropping the phone onto the couch. A male figure stood against the door way towards her small bedroom, encased in shadow. But she didn't need light to know who it was. He stepped forward, his blue eyes encased in thought, his face an emotionless mask.

"Jason," she stated his name. He made a move to the table besides her, making her lean back into the back of the couch. The light turned on, instantly alighting the familiar face of the man that had sent her into the train. Though, this time, it was encase in bruises and cuts, making her flinch. "My God," she whispered under her breath. She straightened, feeling exposed under his gaze, her arms falling unless at her sides. He too straightened, facing her. He looked slightly tired, yet she knew, because of his training, he could keep going, well into many sleepless nights, working on energy she yet didn't know from where. He wore the same black coat he had the night they had departed at the train station. "H-How did you find me?" His eyes seemed to have taken in the fact that she in fact was standing in front of him, escaping from their thoughts.

"I know where to look," he replied, his voice a tone softer than she remembered. Tension filled the air between them. She looked down.

"Are you in pain?" She couldn't help but feel for the pain his body exposed. Even if he was good at hiding it.

"No." Without thinking, she turned and walked in a few steps into her small kitchen, grabbing a small towel to run under ice cold water. She heard movement and gaze uncertainly as he sat down on the couch. She closed the faucet and walked to his side.

"Here," she offered the moist towel. He didn't meet her gaze but took it, pressing it to a cut to his chin and lip. She bit her lip. His hands wore redness from usage and a few cuts here and there. How did he managed to be so nonchalant about his injuries, training or not? "Jason," she started. He flinched at the name, finally looking up to meet her hazel eyes. Hers widened.

"I am no longer Jason Bourne." He didn't let go of her eyes, nor did she feel like looking away. Something ferocious was still underneath those eyes. "I remember, everything." She sharply looked away then, her hand moving to her mouth. He rose.

"E-Everything?" she whispered.

"Yes." Tears managed to spring to her eyes, but they did not fall. She felt him, his body behind hers. Suddenly, his hand was on her shoulder, turning her with not much force yet enough to make her. She fearfully stared into his eyes. Her practiced apology died at her lips. She had meant for her part of her story to have been told by her but if he knew already…there was no way she could expect his forgiveness. Not that she thought he would have forgiven her in the first place. He seemed to be searching for something. What, she did not know. He withdrew from the space between them and stood more firmly. She felt a tear escape. His eyes took the formal look she was so accustomed to. "I need your help."

-------------------------------------------

**There's my first attempt at a Bourne Fanfiction. If it isn't obvious by now, this took place after Ultimatum. Sorry for the Spoilers for those who haven't seen it. The beginning speech made by the reporter are more or less the actual things he said in the movie….how I got a hold of it, will not be mentioned :D hehehe. **

**Oh and I realized that I misspelled the names of the characters and such, and if someone would nicely point out how they're spelled, it would really be appreciated. **

**I hope you enjoy and perhaps ask for chapter two? If not... than that's okay. **

**If anything, it would be a slight Jason(David)/Nikki story. Please no flaming. I really did like Marie. She was a good character in the other two movies. I was taken aback when she was killed in the second one (spoiler!) but I'm just taking a swing at this for the first time. Hope you enjoyed. **

**- Mayachan**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: ... someone pointed out to me that I did not put a proper warning of having Spoilers for _Bourne Ultimatum_ so...I'm sorry for those who read it and ...yeah. oh, and I forgot the disclaimer which will be for the rest of this story...that is, if you guys want a story. **

**_DISCLAIMER: I do not own or hold any right to any of the Bourne related media: books, movies, etc. They all belong to their respected authors and directors/producers. I only own this plot line._ **

* * *

**London, England **

**3:14 AM Eastern Time **

She didn't have much, so in no time, she was packed. He had with him a small duffel bag, similar to the one she now had at her feet. He emerged from her bedroom, where she supposed he had left it. She stopped when she saw him wince as he placed with his right arm the duffel bag onto the couch.

"What is it?" she asked. He made no movement proving he heard her. She studied his back and her eyes widened when they noticed the now dry stain on his right shoulder blade, a hole piercing the black coat. "Where…you were shot," she stated out loud. He stopped then, his back facing her. He seemed to contemplate his reply and looked over his shoulder at her. His eyes were over shadowed by his brows.

"Can you sew?" he asked. She was taken aback at the question.

"Yeah," she replied, placing the last thing in her bag. He nodded slightly and stopped his hands short of the handles of the bag. With sudden determination, he pulled off his coat and pulled at the edge of his black T-shirt. Nikki's eyes widened and stared quizzically at the man. "What are you-?"

"It is beyond my reach," he pulled off the shirt, exposing the rough entering wound of the bullet. The wound had stopped bleeding profusely, now dried but still tender. She made a move towards him and she could see the bullet under the flex of his muscle. She swallowed. Thank Goodness it hadn't gone in so deep. She could now understand why he couldn't do it himself. It was literally beyond his reach. He suddenly drove his hand into his bag and with the flick of his wrist, the blade of a knife was exposed in his hand. She flinched. He silently gave the blade, handle facing her. She slowly reached for it and grasped it. He picked up the coat and shirt, dropped them on his bag, and sat on a chair, the back of it facing his front. Her eyes flicked to the shine of the blade. Had he used it before? She couldn't help but think about it. "Can you do it or not?" he asked suddenly, his voice sharp.

"Yes. I-I'll need some needle and thread-"

"In the front pocket," he directed, signaling with his chin towards his bag. He still had not met her eyes. Taking off the coat she had placed on, she pulled up the stool from the kitchen and turned on a lamp near them. She now could she faint scars from previous wounds on his back. She bit her lip.

"Here I go," she whispered, more to herself than to alert him. Taking the knife, she began to ebb the blade into his skin, barely gracing the wound. He flinched but straightened. "Almost," she assured and winced as blood began to bleed from the cut, soon followed by the grunt from his lips as the bullet slip through. It fell with a _clink _onto the floors and was lost under the couch. Grabbing the towel from earlier, she placed it at the wound with one hand, and with the other reached for the needle and thread. She pulled off the towel and sighed with content as she noticed the cut had temporarily stopped bleeding. Placing the thread in the needle, she began to sew the wound closed, getting no further reaction from him. Taking the knife again, she cut the string and pulled slightly back, to view the stitches.

"Done?" he asked.

"Yeah," she stood and moved the items to the kitchen, mainly to clean the knife. He stood, flexing the arm this way and that, to test the stitching and moved towards his clothing. She closed the faucet and bit her lip.

_'I am no longer Jason Bourne,' _he had said. So, did that mean she now had to call him…David? Guilt gnawed at her then. She glanced at him through the small curtain of hair that fell in front of her face. He dressed again and zipped up the bag. He glanced at his watch.

"We have to go. Now," he ordered, grabbing his bag. She walked briskly to her bag and picked up her belongings. He pulled open the door and turned to her. It was so dark out. "Let's go," he hurried. Nikki walked hurriedly towards him and onto the platform of the stairs outside. He slammed the door closed, pulled out her key to the apartment and broke it inside the lock. She rose a brow at this but had no time to ask as he grabbed her elbow, beginning their descend down the stairs. She felt his hand around her arm tight, and she feared the reason as to why.

"Where exactly are we going?"

"The train station," he supplied and 'helped' her turn the corner. A sudden thought entered her mind. Did he still not trust her fully as to having to keep holding onto her?

"I can walk by myself," she mumbled, looking down. She felt him look at her, still walking. His hand suddenly released her and he walked more determined towards said train station, still at her side. His silence reminded her of earlier.

* * *

"What exactly do you need my help in?" she asked. Her hands rubbed against the warmth of the cup of coffee in her hands. His black coffee was in front of him, not touched. His elbows were propped on each knee, his hands fisted in front of him, clasped in one another. Neither looked up from the surface of the wooden table. 

"I think the BLACKBRIAR folders Vosen held in his vault were incomplete," he mumbled, passing a thumb over the stubble of his cheek.

"Why would it be missing anything? No one besides Hierst and Vosen touched those files-" he looked sharply up then.

"Traces of edges of a ripped page were in the middle of the files. They had been ripped from their holdings."

"Then someone broke into Vosen's vault, before you." Nikki placed down the cup. "Do you have any idea of what's missing?"

"It's a recruit's file," his face darkened, "Perhaps someone like..." She sadly swallowed then.

"You believe that person knew BLACKBRIAR was going to be exposed?"

"…" he didn't answer, rather tiredly dug his face into his hands. She felt herself back in Morocco, that night he had saved her from Desh, when he had said he could see their nameless faces, the faces of the people he had killed. Were those faces hunting him now? But now with names?

"What do you need _me _for?" she tried again. He looked up -

* * *

"_Come on_!" he hurried her, his voice becoming a bit more forceful. They both quickened their steps. Their footsteps echoed up the sides of the buildings, not many were out at this time of the night. The cool air nipped at their faces. She could hear the faint sounds of the trains. He glanced down at his watch and picked up her arm again. Suddenly, a loud explosion erupted, followed by the alarms of the parked vehicles behind them.. She grunted in surprise and tried to look back. 

"Wha-!"

"Keep going." He walked them in between a crowd coming out of their homes, facing the way they had come. Smoke began to lift from behind them. They turned a corner and walked the block. They suddenly met the sirens of the police heading towards the explosion. As soon as one passed by close enough, he suddenly pulled her to the wall and faced her, sheltering them with his body. Nikki's eyes widen at the gesture but did not look up. Both stilled until the patrol cars passed by. "Let's go." He started walking again. Soon, they were in the slightly crowded train station. He pulled out some change and paid for their entrance through the gates. They briskly walked down the steps.

_"Train A483 is about to depart. Passengers please board-" _He glanced back and lead them into the nearest train carriage. Nikki side glanced at him as he warily checked each passenger door. He stood before her, his back facing her.

"Excuse me-" someone grabbed her on the shoulder, turning from Bourne, but before she could reply, Bourne's hand shout out and held the stranger's hand in a threatening grip. She stood in between them, unsure of what to do.

"What do you want?" he spoke in an undertone, though it carried its usual strictness.

"I was just asking for your tickets, _sir_. The train is about to leave," the man answered tensely. They now recognized him as the conductor. Bourne released his hand and nodded at her. She handed the man the tickets and weakly tried to smile. The man punched a hole in each and warily handed the tickets back. Both watched him move onto the other seats, before leaving the whole cart all together. He pulled open one of the passenger doors and walked inside, allowing her to follow suit. Without a word, he grabbed her bag from her hands and placed them on top of the shelves above them. He sat down, not leaning fully back into the cushioned seat. She sat in front of him and looked out the window. The train jerked and soon, was moving smoothly on long the tracks. She sneaked a glance at him and marveled at the strange shadows the passing lamps created on his currently scarred face. Snuggling further into the seat, she looked out the window again.

"Was it you?" she asked, "The explosion, I mean." He too side glanced at her. That meant yes.

"Get some rest," he suddenly mumbled, running his thumb over his reddened knuckles.

"What about you?" she asked softly. In all honesty, he looked worst off than she did.

"I'll be fine." His blue steel eyes met hers. She sighed under her breath and nodded. Leaning her head against the cool window of the cart, she allowed her eyes to study his currently occupied face. Busy thoughts seemed to zoom behind those cool eyes, never getting any rest. She wondered if he was like this when… he hadn't remembered who he was, before the episode in India. His jaw suddenly clenched. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, blinking.

"For what?" she asked, curious despite herself. Though, she didn't show it.

"It really doesn't," he supplied, his eyes meeting hers again, "It doesn't get easier." His face was void of emotion but his eyes shined with old pain, guilt and sleeping anger. Then, his lips gave the slightest twitch, a small sad smirk that he could manage at the moment. Was this David? Without thinking it, she placed her hand onto his folded ones, offering a small smile of her own. The train took a another turn, slightly jerking the passengers. His mask came back, and before she could blink, he removed his hand from under hers and looked out the window. "We'll reach Italy in a few hours."

* * *

**New York City, New York **

**6:18 PM Western Time **

His phone ringed.

" 'Ello?"

"I take it you've seen the news?"

"Yes."

"Then you know what to do?" He smiled then.

"I do. I'm taking the next plane to Italy in a few hours."

* * *

**Thank you guys so much for your positive reinforcements on the first chapter. Phew!**

**I really hope this is to your expectation, guys. I know that after this chapter, I'm leaving more questions in the atmosphere about Bourne's true motive as to why he contacted Nikki, since I cut the flashback short. But don't worry. The motive will arise...eventually. :D **

**Oh, and I really thank all of you who nicely pointed out my misspelling of names and such. I went back and corrected Bosbe into Vosen (man I was way off!) and as for the way Nikki is spelled... would you guys mind if I kept spelling it this way? Some say it's spelled 'Nicky', the traditional way, some say it's 'Nikki'. I hope you guys don't mind me using Nikki. If it becomes too much of an issue, then I will change it of course. **

**Oh, and I hope no one mind me bringing up the whole mess with BLACKBRIAR again. I'm just typing chapter after chapter, nothing is writing down before hand. And I apologize for the lack of knowledge of the proper time zones. **

**Thank you again and I'm crossing my fingers for you guys to ask me to continue. I really enjoy writing this! And I'll get to answer your questions eventually. Please give me time. :D**

**Mayachan**


	3. Chapter 3

Enjoy!

* * *

**New York City, New York **

**8:57 PM Western Time **

"Any luck?" she tapped the agent's shoulder, who immediately turned to her.

"No ma'am. His body hasn't been found," he reported. Landy sighed in irritation and nodded at him, moving on. They were a bit South off of where the report was said Bourne was shot off the roof, believing his body to have drifted down the East River. She glared as a crowd off reporters buzzed underneath a flickering lamp post, craving to get a new story. "Will somebody stall off the press?" A few men walked towards the reporters, immediate shouts of protest retorted out loud. Frustrated, she turned from the streets to the murky waters of the East River. She had offered him a chance to prove his innocence, to verbally counter the accusations of his part in the whole BLACKBRIAR mess but he had refused. "What _were _you planning, David?" she murmured under her breath. A few shouts caught her attention to her left. The men in scuba gear had broken the surface. She broke into a sprint and arrived shortly at their side.

"Did you find something?" she demanded.

"Not the body," he lamented, "But a found this gun jammed into the old pipes leading from the River to the city. Looks like one of the models the agency carried a few years back." Slipping it into a bag, one of the agents handed the gun to Landy, who begun to inspect it. Damn. This wasn't much.

"You think we should call off this search, Boss?" a black haired agent behind her questioned, moving out of the way of the emerging scuba geared men. Landy sighed.

"It's been three days, practically four. And no sign of him."

"Vosen said he got him. That he got Bourne square in his back. That the shot should have killed him."

"I don't trust anything that comes out of Vosen's mouth. Especially when it comes to Bourne."

"Where else do you believe the body could have drifted off to? We would have come up with something by now." Landy remained silent though she now remembered something about David's training she had heard being said. The agent always retreated back to familiar grounds. She turned from the scene and began to walk to her car.

"A _familiar_ place," she mumbled to herself. The first thought that occurred to her, if Bourne had survived Vosen's shot that was, was that he headed back to that woman, Marie. But then, she remembered Marie was found dead in a river in India. She turned the corner, walked to her parked vehicle nestled in the bumper to bumper line of other cars, and paused at the door. He had no where else to go except… Her eyes widened. _Of course_. The only other person Bourne had trusted his undertaking was to… Nikki Parsons. She searched her coat pockets for her keys, pulled them out and opened the door. But, if Bourne had seen to it that they couldn't find Nikki, then Nikki was as invisible as Bourne was right now. That is, if Bourne was alive. She strapped herself in, closed the door and started the ignition. Suddenly, she heard the unmistakable 'beeping' sound… of a bomb.

* * *

**Siena, Italy **

**7: 43 AM Eastern Time **

"Wake up." Instantly her eyes opened. She looked up and before her stood Bourne, facing away from her, their bags in hand. She looked around. The Italian milieu viewed through the weathered windows told her that they had arrived. She warily stood as he walked to the cabin doors, opened them and glancing back at her over his shoulder, walked out into the hall, shifting his bag on his shoulder. They soon got off of the train amongst the crowd of the passengers and made their way to the station.

"What now?" Nikki asked, glancing around at the crowds. An uneasy feeling had settled into her stomach. He didn't answer, rather looked up at the signs directing passengers around to their destinations.

"This way." he mumbled and began to make his way through the crowded station. She quickened her pace, elbowing her way through to keep up with his strides. After a few minutes, they had made it out of the station. She faced his back, side glancing at the residents waiting for a cab. The sun was barely breaking through the horizon and already people were overcrowding the streets. Her thoughts were interrupted when Bourne glanced back. "We'll walk." Turning right, he began to make his way through the crowd. She allowed a woman to pass through before she dove into the crowd again. Shifting her coat, she glanced around. Where was Bourne? A sense of panic instantly consumed her.

"Bourne?" she hadn't meant for her voice to come out this uncertain but it had. Maybe because she was shivering at the morning temperatures, even through Italy was usually warm. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't visited Italy and was more or likely… lost. Suddenly, someone tugged on her arm and forced her into a stiff warm body. Her grunt was interrupted by her impact to the body.

"Keep up." Nikki snapped her gaze upwards to peer into the steel eyes of Bourne. Thanks goodness. Suddenly, his gaze snapped to a building five buildings away, to their left, which was under construction. His face steeled and she felt him tense up. He wordlessly began to lead her by the arm again through the crowds and made his way to a more crowded passage way. He glanced back once, making the feeling in her stomach heighten.

"What's going on, Bourne?"

"…" he said nothing, but kept up his quick pace without difficulty. At another glance, he suddenly took a right and walked them into a grocery store. The familiarity of a few things in the place made her feel a bit better but not by much. His grip didn't lessen, but his pace slowed down a bit. He led them towards the back of the store, towards the doors leading to the drop-off of the products took place. His hand drifted from her elbow to her wrist, in a fashion at which made her glance at the back of his head, and lead them to a door, leading out of the drop-off. Admitting she wasn't going to get much out of him now, she swallowed her questions for the moment and place effort to keep up with his strides, finally walking along side him. They smoothly blended into the moving crowd of the pedestrians, following the current until Bourne suddenly made them stop.

"What is it?" she asked.

"In here." he ordered and let go of her hand. He stood aside a door leading to a building, prompting her to walk inside first. She translated the placard outside the plaster coated building to be a motel. Her insinuations were proved correct as they reached the reception desk. A elder man of Italian ethnic was behind the weathered table.

"_Una sala, si prega_," Bourne requested, placing forward some currency. The older man nodded carelessly, produced the change, made Bourne sign an receipt and took back the paper. "_Grazi_," he thanked and lead Nikki to the hallway, up the stairs and into the end of a hall where their room was. He wasted no time in opening the door and automatically checking out each room. He walked back into the living room, which was the first room one was in entering the apartment. "We're staying here, for the night."

* * *

**Siena, Italy **

**7:50 AM Eastern Time **

He lowered the gun. The guy was good. Too good for his taste. The damn fool Hierst had warned him but… this guy was _too_ good. Robotic-ally, he disarmed the gun and placed it in its case. He had been close to taking out the girl. Had it not been for Bourne, he might have accomplished it.

"This might take longer than I anticipated," he mumbled to himself. He shouldered the case holding the weapon, lifted a leg over the railing of the still-under-construction building and began to make his way down.

* * *

**A/N: Anyone else thrilled that The Bourne Ultimatum movie comes out December 11? I am. I'm sorry I took so long in updating something to this fanfic. I kind of got some kinks out of this and it flowed a bit easier, for me. **

**I know, don't take so long in updating chapter 4 …that is if you guys want it. Only and if, you guys want it. **

**Till next time! **

**Mayachan**

**PS- sorry for the length. **

_**Italian translations accumulated by Google. **_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So sorry this update is way over due... if anyone is still interested in this story plot. **

**Without further a do, Chapter four! **

**Siena, Italy **

**8:37 PM Eastern Time **

They were inside the small room all day. Nikki sat warily on the bed while Bourne maneuvered from the chair by the phone table to the window almost mechanically every ten minutes. He swiftly shifted the curtain just to, as to allow him to see yet hardly make movement.

But they hadn't spoken a word since they had checked in.

She swallowed and side glanced at him. How much did he really remember? That question was burning into her skull. The anxiety was killing her. If he knew too much-and from the wrong person-

"I'm going out," he mumbled suddenly, slipping something into his coat pocket, that she managed to miss a look at and made his way to the door.

"What? Wait," she called out, rising too. He stopped, but didn't turn. "Bourne?" she felt herself trembling and she hated herself for it, "...What's going on? Where are you-?"

"I'll be back," he turned, fixing her with his emotionless facade. She swallowed. "Don't leave the room." With that, he turned again, unlocked the door and closed it, locking it right afterwards. She took a step but stopped herself short.

"Bourne," she whispered. Exhaling, she turned and pulled up their bags onto the larger desk area opposite the window. Bourne himself had moved the table away from the currently closed shutters and curtains. She heard miscellaneous sounds coming from outside in the hall, she assumed where the other residents of the building. Bourne's bag caught her attention. Her fingers tentatively fingered the straps that helped pick up the surprisingly _light_ bag.

**Siena, Italy **

**8:40 PM Eastern Time **

He saw Bourne come to stand out of the moving crowd on the streets. Why make himself stand out? Abruptly, Bourne moved towards his right and continued on his way.

"Where are you going, Bourne?" he questioned out loud. Throwing the toothpick away, he walked around the outskirts of the crowd and when granted the opportunity, made his way into the crowd and followed Bourne.

Perhaps, he could find Agent Parsons along the way.

**New York City, New York **

**9: 11 PM Western Time **

Helicopters whirled above Landy as she swallowed the tiniest bit of moisture still in her mouth. She dared not move until it was safe. But outwardly, she dared not show how badly she was scared.

"Agent Landy?" a bomb squat officer called out to her. She had called in her situation as soon as she had slipped her phone from her pocket carefully. Now, she was surrounded by barricaded police cars and the large bomb squat tank in front of her vehicle. Up in the air, a helicopter routinely passed by, illuminating the suddenly dark alleyway.

"Yes?" she replied.

"I'm going to ask you to follow my instructions precisely in order for you to come unharmed of any injury," the officer smoothly replied. He eased closer. "Do you see any wiring connected to the door or any other part of the vehicle?"

"No, I think it's based on leverage," she called out, hoping to be heard over the loud hum of the helicopter. The man seemed to think it over and glanced back at his crew. He nodded back at them and received a nod back. He glanced back to Landy.

"Okay. Agent Landy?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to need you to stay calm as I open the door," he spoke, shifting his hand onto the door handle. It wasn't the first time she had been up close and personal with a bomb of the sort. The job almost guaranteed it. But this close, to have been the target- "Agent?"

"Yes?" her heart raced as the covered man finally opened the door.

"When I give the word, I'm going to pull you from the the seat and we'll duck for cover, okay?" he asked. She nodded. He carefully wrapped an arm around her her and waited to fix his gaze onto her own. "Ready?" she nodded again.

Suddenly, he jerked them both from the car and fell for cover.

**Siena, Italy **

**9:01 PM Eastern Time**

Bourne glanced back. Now knowing for sure, he waited for the right time and slipped into a fishery market. Almost in sync, determined steps passed by the door he had entered. Pacing himself a step, he came out again and searched for the man who had been chasing them.

**Siena, Italy **

**9:03 PM Eastern Time **

How could he have lost track of Bourne? He allowed himself to be swallowed by the pedestrian crowds still out this late at night and supervised from a secluded vantage point. Sudden movement to his right caught his attention.

"_Che 'e la_?" (Who is there) he called out. Abandoning his post, he resumed to slickly pull out his gun from his sleeve and maneuver it to his left hand. Suddenly, he was pushed harshly against the brick weathered wall. Running on trained instinct, he kicked his opponent at his knee cap but managed to kick air. A swift thrust was aimed true at his nose and his eyes watered. His gun was tossed from his hand and his arm was twisted with a sickening _thud_ behind his back. Suddenly, he was pushed back into the same wall, his arm now useless.

"Who sent you?" Bourne demanded, his face expressionless and surprisingly, not out of breath.

"_Mi dispiace_. _Io non comprendere_," (I'm sorry. I don't understand) he replied. In a flash, Bourne held a gun to his opponent's forehead. The man met Bourne's eyes steadily.

"_Who_ _sent_ _you_?" Bourne tried again, his tranquil demeanor running thin. Suddenly, the man brought up his injured arm and knocked aside Bourne's arm. Bourne reacted and met the man's arm with his own. He caught the man's hand and jerked the fingers out of their sockets. The man gave a small muffled yelp and spun against the wall and out of Bourne's range. Bourne calmly faced the man and secured the gun in his grip.

"..." the man attacked and fixed Bourne's arm with a good sized kick. Bourne went back a step and ducked when the man tried the same move again. He caught the guy's leg and spun him around to loose his balance and landed him a good kick on his side. He grabbed the man's shirt and brought him up, pinning him against the wall again. The man's eyes widened when Bourne's gun _clicked_ and was placed between his eyes.

"_Che inviato tu?!_" Bourne tried for the last time.

"Why do you defend her?" the man countered, speaking in perfect English. Bourne's eyes flashed and he released the man, but only stepped back a foot's width, his gun still aimed.

"Defend who?"

"Parson." Bourne showed no reaction to the name. Neither man made any movement for minutes. The man licked his bloody lip and stood erect against the wall. "She's working with them. They abandoned BLACKBRIER but-"

"You know BLACKBRIER?"

"..." the man swallowed his reply and twitched his limp arm. Bourne _clicked_ his gun again.

"...the wound to your side has pierced your lungs. Blood will fill them up in a few minutes...I suggest you speak..." the soft words chilled the man's spine, making his eyes widen slightly.

"You're aiding the enemy." Bourne remained expressionless. The man made a move to jerk out of Bourne's gaze and Bourne followed. He pulled back the man's arm and jerked him to the floor.

"_Who sent you_?" Bourne deadly mumbled. Night time had rendered most of the crowd in doors now and the lack of light played strange shadows on Bourne's face.

"...they'll come for her..." The man mumbled. Bourne tensed and threw the man against the wall, making him slump to the floor in a weakened heap. Promptly, Bourne turned and began to disassemble the gun. The man's eyes widened when no bullets fell from the now destroyed gun.

**Siena, Italy **

**10:07 PM Eastern Time **

Bourne kept to the shadows of the streets and retraced his steps. His mind, now more busy than ever.

**Siena, Italy **

**10:08 PM Eastern Time **

She had been pacing for a good hour or so, debating if she should. She had found something to fill her stomach, mostly coffee, but that hadn't calmed her nerves. Nikki knew she shouldn't but with trembling hands, she made work of opening Bourne's bag and peeled off the top. Her eyes widened.

**New York City, New York **

**10:31 PM Western Time **

Landy was allowed to move, after the explosion, her ears still ringing. Men in uniform made quick work to extinguish the fire of her car. With sudden realization, she noted she had left the gun in the car.

"Landy, are you okay?" her assistant asked her. She nodded, not trusting herself to talk and helped herself to sit in the ambulance. Police enforcement kept reporters at bay.

It was safe to say, someone wanted her dead.

**A/N: hope this one's okay. Been a while since I wrote this one up. Same excuse: School's being a pain right now. Sorry it took so long. Months right? Right. **

**Sorry if the translations aren't right. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Chapter five. This story hasn't been abandoned...yet. Hopefully someone's still reading it. **

* * *

New York City, New York

**11:02 PM Western Time **

She robotically sipped from the black coffee cup she had been offered at her office. She was now back into the office where most of her adventures started from. And knew, she'd soon hear from her supervisor. She set the cup down and sighed. What the hell had she gotten herself into now? A knock came to her door, making her look up.

"Yes?" she called out. The door opened and Tom, her trusted agent who had to fall back in her recent search party for Bourne to fill out paper work, peeked his head in.

"Pam? The director wants to see you," he informed, a small apologetic smile spread on his face. Well, that was quick. She rose, leaving her cup of coffee on then table and slipped on her coat jacket.

"Let's go," she ordered. Tom opened the door for her, and promptly followed her down the hall.

* * *

**Siena, Italy **

**11:49 PM Eastern Time **

Nikki felt a chill run up her spine as she numbly released the edges of Bourne's bag. Papers filled the bag's contents. Names hazardously were scribbled here and there, some circled, others written over and over again.

"My...God," she whispered. Tentatively, she fingered the nearest piece of paper and peered at it. It looked like a ripped piece of paper from a journal. _A_ _journal_. She swallowed. The agents had been taught to keep track of their movements by writing them down on a journal. Then again, agents had also been taught to have been immaculatly clean. But Bourne's bag said differently. She closed her eyes as guilt began to consume her again.

--

_"Name?" she stated, attempting her hardest not to make direct contact with the "agent". _

_"..." he didn't reply. She took a deep breath. _

_"Name, agent," she repeated, her tone taking a harsh octave. She didn't mean for it to come out that harshly but it had. She felt movement in front of her. Damn the limited funds in the building. The lighting was all wrong. The could have been tricking her._

_"...Bourne," he mumbled, darkly. Timidly, she peeked over her papers. And realized her mistake off hand. She was now held captive by his gaze. _

--

Nikki released the piece of paper and it fluttered into the pile inside his bag. Her breath quickened. She gripped the edges of the table and swallowed. Did he remember that far back? She ran cold fingers through her short hair. The average person didn't always remember every detail of his life. Especially if it was over years ago. She stopped. Then again, Jason Bourne wasn't average. A colored piece of paper caught her attention. It seemed to be stashed away farther down than all of the other papers. Shakily, she pulled at its corner and released it.

It was a photograph of Jason Bourne... and Marie. Marie, the woman who had found Jason when he had lost all memory. She who had helped him attempt to remember. Isn't' that what Bourne had confessed to her after their run down with Desh? Back in Morocco? That it was _Marie_ who had helped him remember some? She let the photograph drop and wiped her brow. Figuring she had gone a way she knew she couldn't come back from, she delved into the bag again.

* * *

**Siena, Italy **

**11:51 PM Eastern Time**

Bourne successfully slipped into the back of the hotel building he had left Nikki in. Pausing briefly, he looked around for a fire escape. Finding one in the far left corner, he rushed silently to it, lifted the bottom half down, and began his ascend.

* * *

**Siena, Italy **

**11: 52 PM Eastern Time **

Nikki paused as she saw a picture of herself among the pile. She quickly snatched it and flipped it over. Her name was scribbled on there in rough, hurried print. Fear froze her for a moment. Why did Bourne have a picture – rather a snapshot – of her?

Suddenly, a thud was heard from outside. Adrenaline rushed her to zip the bag closed, position it as she had found it, and near the lamp on the edge of the table with the bag. She flicked it off. Bright moonlight shone though the curtains, or rather, what they allowed the light to shine through. She looked around the room, now nestled near the window on the - opposite side of the room where she had been. The eerie silence was burning her already fried nerves to no end. Blindly, she fingered the shelf besides her, serving as a table for dinner near the kitchen, and felt for anything she could use. Her fingers grasped a lamp. Quickly removing its cover, she lifted it above her head, blinking to keep it steady.

Suddenly, a body shaped shadow cut off the moon's light reflected onto the room's floor. With bated breath, she waited. For a full minute, the shadow made no movement. But then, it fingered the part of the lock that stood out from the window's edge. Good thing Bourne had made work of the lock, inside and outside. Her heart sank, however, when she heard it click, the part of the lock inside the room, falling to the ground. She bit back a cry of disbelief. This was it. Whoever was after them – or was it her? - had found them, and was now finished his or her job.

A sudden thought came to her. If whoever was chasing them, was here, then...what had happened to Bourne?

The window slid quietly open and the curtains lifted to reveal a shadow-covered head. Nikki took a step back and re-gripped the lamp. The body made its way fully into the room. Without a second thought to the matter, she gave a small cry out, and brought down the lamp. The figure moved too quickly, and shielded the blow with his/her lower arm. The lamp went flying and landed miraculously, on the bed. Taken by surprise for a second, she recovered and steadied herself, giving the shadow a good punch.

But - clothed in black – arms grabbed her and slammed her forward. The movement made them both be cast in light.

"Parsons?!" a steel voice called to her. She blinked her eyes open, having shut them, awaiting the worst.

"...Bourne?!" she whispered, nonplussed. His face was shining with a thin sheet of sweat, and his breath was a bit harsh, warm on her face, but it was those same haunting steel blue eyes, staring back at her. His hands released her wrists, which were between them, as he realized she had gotten over her shock.

What took _him_ by surprise was her arms enveloping him in a hug.

Her body tensed as well, as reality kicked in, but whether out of fear of looking at his face, or of embarrassment, she did not look up and release him. He could practically feel her racing heartbeat beat against him. She faced out of the now open window as he faced towards the shadowed kitchen. Neither made a move for minutes. Finally, her fingers released his shoulders and her arms unwrapped his taller body. Nikki did not meet his gaze, rather kept it down as she turned, making her way to the bed. "What happened?" she whispered. His face steeled.

"...Never mind him," he countered, and grabbed his bag. Nikki sent him a glance but turned away quickly. "We have to leave," he ordered. In record time, they quickly cleaned the apartment of their use of it, and walked briskly down the hall. Bourne returned the keys and grabbing her arm, guided them out of the hotel.

They didn't stop till they were at least five blocks from their hotel room.

"Here," he handed her his bag. Without another word, he knelt in front of a car, picked its lock, and pulled the door open. He turned, grabbed both of their bags, and tossed them in the back. "Get in," he ordered. She walked around the car to the passenger side as he followed suit, to the driver's. Quickly making work of the cables underneath the steering wheel, the engine roared and soon, they were on the road.

* * *

**New York City, New York **

**1: 08 AM Western Time **

A man picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he answered. A labored breathing hovered on the other line.

"...He slipped away," the breath whispered with effort. The man scowled.

"You were kept away from _those_ files – that that _impotent_ Vosen could not keep safe - for a _reason_!" He breathed. "You and that -"

"...It will...be done," the line cut off.

* * *

**New York City, New York **

**1: 30 AM Western Time **

Landy sighed heavily as she let herself back into her office. Or basically, her second home. Her director had almost bitten off her head. She rubbed her eyes as she peered, peeved, at her cold cup of coffee still on her desk. Her gaze flew to her cell phone. She half expected it to ring and hear David's voice on the other end. ...Or was it Jason? She braced her elbows on the supports of her desk chair and placed her hands under her chin in thought.

Who had wanted _her_ dead? Possibly someone from BLACKBRIER but... the project was officially closed. An over looked agent? That question made her sit up and pick up the hefty file case near her trash can. Numerous times she had looked over these files. And found nothing. So, what else could she find?

And Bourne? Or David? What had become of him? Where was _he_, or rather, his _body_?

"...a giant explosion caught official's attention in an apartment complex south of the English district of London -" the reporter's voice made Landy look up. Moving her mouse, she brightened the light coming off of her computer's screen as the black haired reporter dodged fire fighters that ran to the fire. "The fire brigade is puzzled about the explosion but figure, it was an accident as many a time had occurred." The explosion itself was of no interest to Landy but... its timing...its size for a single apartment... "However, an American student in a foreign exchange program from California seems to have perished in the fire-" Landy again looked up, having looked away to collect her thoughts. "Her identification hasn't been conformed but she appeared to have been in her late twenties, roughly five and a half feet -" Landy shut off the screen.

She was over thinking things. What she needed to concentrate on was finding Nikki Parsons. And hopefully, find Jason Bourne.

* * *

**Outside of Siena City Limits, Italy **

**2:18 AM Eastern Time **

At a sudden bump in the road, she woke up. She quickly shifted up and looked around.

"Where are we?" the question slipped through without her thinking. He spared her a glance and looked forward again.

"...Almost out of Siena," with that, he moved the stolen car's clutch and guided the vehicle to take a right lane. She nodded, and re-wrapped her large black coat on herself. She paused. She didn't own this coat. She side glanced at Bourne. He was jacket-less. She bit her lip and looked outside the car window. The moon played strange shadows on the landscape. She thought once or twice that she saw a man hovering between bushes of grasses, making her flinch visibly.

She felt Bourne look at her every time she did so.

"..._what_ do you think he was?" she whispered, after a while. She got no reply. "...do you think he was part of BLACKBRIER? The missing page?"

"No," he firmly assured. "...though, I think he has been trained to believe he is." _That_ caught her attention.

"Trained to _believe_ he's part of BLACKBRIER?" It didn't make sense. Bourne sighed and seemed suddenly tired.

"Want me to drive?" she offered.

He sent her a look of guarded disbelief. She timidly smirked. Was it lack of sleep that made her talk to _boldly_ with him? Or was it the aftermath of the adrenaline rush she had gone thought back in the room? Or was it _her_ ties to _his_ past? He swallowed.

"...It's alright. Sleep. We're waking up early tomorrow," he mumbled.

* * *

**A/N: Here's chapter five. Hope you like. Give word if I should continue. I feel discouraged with the way this is going. If I keep at it like this, I might not be able to write it. Sorry guys. Hope I hear from you. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Author's note at the bottom. Enjoy! :D

* * *

**

New York City, New York

**5: 37 AM Western Time **

Now, fueled with fresh coffee, she picked up the oh so familiar folders containing basically Jason's life. Though, this time, added Nicky Parson's file. Pulling back pages, she leafed through useless information, simultaneously with both files. She paused, coincidently as Tom entered her office.

"Landy?"

"She knew him. Before the investigation." Tom closed the door and took a seat in front of his boss' desk.

"Pam...you already knew this. She was stationed in Berlin.-"

"Of course. And was Jason's contact in Paris, as well."

"Yes.." he replied hesitantly. Where was she going with this? She stood up, promptly.

"We need to dive in deeper, Tom."

* * *

**Outside City Limits of Urbino, Italy**

**6: 53 AM Eastern Time **

She didn't wake up necessarily but just became more alert as the sky began to lighten to the slightest degree.

"Are we there yet?" she asked, allowing herself to smirk. He shifted lanes and glanced sideways at her.

"No."

"Oh." The car rumbled noiselessly over the paved road, which oddly enough seemed vacant. Nikki was slightly tempted to ask him if he knew where he was going but she knew that that'd be pointless. He was like a human compass. Her foot shifted and she heard a plastic bag shuffle. A glass bottle of apple juice and other food items wrapped in plastic wrappings were inside it. Shifting upright, she hid a yawn and winced at the shift of light.

"Eat," he instructed after a while. Parting him a side glance, she reached for the apple juice and took a sip. They were surrounded by grass fields, and one or two animals every thirty feet or so.

"No trace of him?" She didn't have to know his name for Jason to know who she was talking about.

"No." Nodding, she took another sip. She swallowed.

"Did you sleep?" He blinked.

"Yes."

"Liar," she whispered and peered out into the landscape.

"...I'm not lying to you." Suddenly, she felt her throat close up on her by surprise. Her eyes began to sting and she wasn't much on religion nowadays...but she begged whoever was looking over her to not let her begin to cry.

* * *

_"I'm not lying to you," he swore. Somehow, they had ended up on the floor and were now sitting before one another. A curl of her newest perm hung over her face. _

_"Right," she dismissed. _

_"You know what I do."_

_"I help you out. Of course I know what you do." Someone yelled outside in the streets, the yell echoing all the way up to their slightly open window. But it fell on deaf ears. The room always did get stuffy. The small desk fans didn't help much. "Therefore I know how good you are at lying." _

_"I'm not lying to you," he repeated. She almost believed him. She stood and turned towards her desk. They shouldn't be doing this. This – this "interacting". She closed her eyes briefly. _

_"How do I know you're not lying?" _

_"You don't." He replied bluntly, now up on his feet as well. She paused and released her breath. _

_"You should go." Their 'boss' would be here any minute, and if he found Bourne in here still..._

_"..." he turned and stepped out of the room. She gripped the desk and bit her lips. She was just his contact. Just his contact! But, if that was true, why didn't it feel like that?_

* * *

"...Parsons?" She blinked.

"Yes?"

"You're crying."

"No I'm not. I have something in my eye." She guessed that the 'ethereal being' looking over her didn't grant her plea. She faked rubbing said 'something' out of her eye and sniffed. "There, it's out." Bourne didn't reply – physically or vocally – and switched lanes again. She noticed no signs indicating they should take that exit but said nothing of it. "Did the agent say anything?"she redirected. He paused, to recollect his thoughts it seemed.

* * *

_"You're aiding the enemy." Bourne remained expressionless. The man made a move to jerk out of Bourne's gaze and Bourne followed. He pulled back the man's arm and jerked him to the floor. _

_"Who sent you?" Bourne deadly mumbled. Night time had rendered most of the crowd in doors now and the lack of light played strange shadows on Bourne's face. _

_"...they'll come for her..." The man mumbled._

* * *

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" He didn't seem to want to go into the matter. But she had to know. "What did you mean when you said he was lead to believe he was BLACKBRIAR?"

"A rogue agent. Not trained under the drill of BLACKBRIAR," she dully noted the grimace in his lips at the word BLACKBRIAR, "He's a spare agent." Nikki gripped the glass of apple juice harsher. A spare agent. The TREADSTONE agents were too precious, she guessed, more so the BLACKBRIAR agents. She side glanced at him again. One more than all the others.

Still, the though of having spare men for other agents to dispatch was.. horrible.

"That's horrible." He hesitated but then nodded.

"Horrible." They began to see the beginnings of a city at a distance away. It wasn't what she expected but Bourne knew what he was doing. Suddenly, the inside of the car filled with immediate tension. "Seat belt," he ordered. She complied and placed the capped bottle of juice in the single cup holder in between them.

The squeal of tires chilled her spine. Daring a glance backwards – the side view mirrors were a bit foggy – she gaped with wide eyes as the agent they had been talking about not a full minute ago, was chasing them. She barely heard Jason cuss under his breath, over the roar of the blood in her ears.

"Hang on," he warned before he hit the accelerator.

* * *

**New York City, New York **

**8:21 AM Western Time**

"What do you expect to find, Landy?" Tom asked. He peered down at the papers now littering her desk.

"Something, Tom. A connection," she looked up and fixed him with her gaze, "Why would Bourne take Nikki with him? To him, she's indispensable. More so because she helped us look for him, remember? So why take her?"

"Are we not talking about his body anymore? You know they haven't found anything yet."

"He's not dead, Tom."

"What!?" the man stilled, "Has he contacted you – ?"

"Don't be ridiculous. He wouldn't contact me now. He believes there's no reason to. Though, there really is." She paused and raked a hand through her hair. "He needs to be proven innocent of his accusations in court."

"He's not free of all blame, Pam. He did kill people."

"He's was ordered to," she snapped, " 'Brainwashed' to follow orders. He didn't know who he was killing."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. Gut feeling, I guess." She sighed. "I hope. Vosen and the others really didn't _clarify_ on that point during court." Tom hesitated then cleared his throat.

"So...Nikki Parsons?"

"Right," she returned to looking at the papers.

"Maybe he wasn't as forgetful as you think he was. Maybe he remembered Nikki as his contact and rather than pick up another stranger like his girlfriend Marie, took Nikki with him."

"Maybe... but it seems rather odd to me. These are agents who are trained to work alone. In the shadow. And for him to take on another with him, especially after Marie was killed..." She peered up at him through tired eyes. "You don't find that odd?"

"To be honest with you, Pam, I don't even like the guy, much less trust him to be a amnesiac assassin who suddenly went good." She glared at him. He rose his hands in defeat. "Sorry. Just voicing my opinion here."

"You and every other official in here," she sighed, "Sorry. I'm getting a bit agitated here. I apologize."

"It's alright," he dismissed, "So, you believe he's alive?"

"You really think he'd just roll over and die, just like that?"

"No."

"Me neither. I believe he's long gone. And with Nikki Parsons." A knock came to their door. Tom called for the new agent to step inside. She opened the door and hesitated.

"We've found ex-agent Nikki Parsons." Tom looked back at Landy. Pam nodded, allowing the girl to place the files on the desk. They allowed the agent to leave before Pam picked up the files.

"You sent for Nikki to be found?" Landy simply nodded, not looking up from the files. "Why?"

"Bourne won't come to court. Perhaps Nikki could speak in his behalf."

"You think she would – "

"She was in London." Tom stopped in mid question. Landy turned to her sleeping monitor and began a search in the news bulletins. She keyed at the keyboard rapidly. She blinked and leaned back.

"Landy?" Tom wheeled his chair to the side to peer at her monitor.

"He's with her."

"Bourne? With Parsons?"

"Yes," she seemed to recuperate from her thoughts and connected with Tom's gaze. "Nikki isn't able to pull of her own death like this. There was a report this morning on the online news about an apartment blowing up in London. I didn't think much of it but now...it makes perfect sense." she stopped herself.

"What?"

"They wouldn't do this deliberately. They must have two motives."

"Which are?"

"To make officials think Nikki's dead. And, to let us personally know he's alive."

* * *

**Urbino, Italy **

**7:03 AM Eastern Time**

His driving was amazingly. It really was. Only it chilled Nikki to her core at the speed at which he drove them. He swerved to the next lane. Cars began to appear as they got closer to the city. It was still dark, adding to her fear of crashing.

"Hold on," he warned again, and caught an exit ramp off of the highway, in a move most would have missed. Several cars were driven off of their course and crashed slightly into one another. Creating a sort of shield after themselves. However the pretend-assassin expertly maneuvered around the pile of metal and followed them down the ramp. Bourne manipulated the car to swerve around a few cars and brought them into the inner network of highways and streets of Urbino. "Nikki." she ignored the small pang of feeling that sprung from within her when he mentioned her first name.

"Yes?"

"Grab the bags." Wordlessly, she complied and undid her seat belt. His speed lower gradually as with a glance through the rear view mirror, noticed them a safe distance away from the assassin. Nikki squeezed herself into the space between the two front seats headed for the small latch that protruded from the middle back seat, that lead into the trunk.

That's when the hail of bullets followed their tread.

She heard a surprised yell come from inside the car. Then shortly realized it was her yell. Nikki suddenly felt Bourne's hand on her thigh and with a sharp inhale of breath from her part, he pushed her back into the back seat. She landed harshly, followed by a sharp swerve of the car.

"...!"

"Get between the seats!" he snapped. She complied and nestled herself uncomfortably in between the backseat and the front seats, on the floor. Nikki could now feel the vibrations of the car over the pavement of the highway. She vaguely wondered about the bullets when – as if hearing her – more bullets rang out. She covered her head with her arms and bit her lips. She could hear Bourne grunt with effort as he maneuvered around the traffic. She heard the squeal of tires, followed by honking. They'd cut someone off. For what seemed like a lifetime, they weren't bombarded with bullets as she expected. But then she heard another squeal of tires.

And this time, it was their own.

She didn't have time to brace for impact, mostly because she didn't see it coming, but suddenly, they were rear ended. The car shifted forward on impact. Bourne shifted gears and drove forward again. She heard the groan of crushed metal being separated and finally, the dull roar of traffic falling faint. Without sound to distract her blood-roared ears, she heard Bourne panting slightly.

"Are you injured?" It took her a second to respond.

"No."

"Get back in the front seat," he replied. His speed lowered, but she knew his foot was on the accelerator, ready to break the speed limit if the need served to. Licking her lips, she rose stiffly and looked behind herself. Her eyes widened. Bullet holes decorated the back bumper of the car and one had hit the windshield. Her face immediately spun to face forward.

The bullet had gone through the passenger seat and gotten stuck in the windshield.

Her mouth ran dry.

"Parsons."

"...I'm coming." She squeezed forward again. Her eyes never left the bullet lodged in front of her. She sat down, her hands gripping the arm rests tightly.

"Did we lose him?" she heard herself ask.

"For now."

"What the hell...?"

"He's fallen back. We've left him without a vehicle," – she vaguely noticed he had said '_we'_ – "It will take him at maximum four minutes to recover and salvage another vehicle for his use."

"Was anyone injured?" images came into her mind. She hadn't seen what had transpired but she had heard and felt the movements.

Bourne hesitated.

"No one is dead." Though a small chill settled in her chest, she nodded, glad.

"Good." He blinked, and switched lanes. They sent back a glance. The back of the car wasn't completely totaled but obviously, it attracted attention. Nikki's glance switched to the clock on the dashboard. Six minutes had passed.

"Hold on!" he stepped on the accelerator and Nikki jerked back into her seat. It took her a second for the shock to clear out of her head and rush her to put on her seat belt. Her hands scrabbled for the buckle to her right. Her breath quickened. The buckle wouldn't click! Why wouldn't it click closed!? Several cars behind them, honks rang out. Cars drove out of the way of the SUV that had it's back door opened. The driver's side window was down. The driver's hand was outside, a gun at ready. Giving up, Nikki gripped with all her might at the seat belt and swallowed. She sneaked a side glance at Bourne, and another chill had settled in her chest.

He was hesitating.

The Jason Bourne she _read_ about didn't hesitate. He was always steps ahead of everyone. Why was he hesitating?!

A thought suddenly struck her. This wasn't the Jason Bourne she _read_ about. This was The Jason Bourne, trained assassin, with a newly regained conscious of his actions.

Their car got off another ramp and dove into a neighborhood. Tall, weathered buildings engulfed them, making Nikki experience a small dose of claustrophobia. Hardly any cars were on the streets. She sneaked another glance at Bourne. Is that why he had hesitated? Because he was afraid of ...casualties? Turning left, the now faced a tunnel. Traffic was able to be seen again, giving the old neighborhood a sense of being back into the new century.

Wheels squealed behind them.

She gripped the seat belt tighter. Another glance at the dashboard. Since the last time she had checked, two minutes had passed. Had it only been two minutes? It seemed so much more. Soon they were surrounded by darkness. The echoes of the engines in the tunnel echoed up into the fifteen foot tall tunnel, roaring in her ears. The cobblestone décor held little interest to Nikki, though otherwise, she would have found it handsome. At the moment, her mind was a little preoccupied.

"How does he keep finding us?" she mumbled. Instantly, her lips squeezed together, regretting the question. Had she insulted him? She wasn't completely one hundred percent sure how an agent's mind worked but was this part of strategy? He didn't reply. Not even glance at her. She distracted herself by burning her gaze into the side mirrors. His SUV was blocked by a late modeled van but shortly delved into the tunnel. "He's inside." She heard him mutter something like a curse under his breath but didn't pay much attention. The would-be-assassin held her attention. Her hands hurt from how hard she gripped at the seat belt. He bumped into a car, sending it to crash into the small wall of concrete dividing the lanes of the tunnel. How damn long was this tunnel? Why were they still in here? She blinked, and the assassin seemed to have gained momentum. "He's gaining on us." She knew she was stating the obvious but right now, it mattered little to her. Bourne cut off two small cars – a blue one and a silver one company cars – but suddenly time seemed to have stopped for her.

He gripped her arm, wrenching her from the worthless harness of the seat belts. He crushed her against him and wrapped his arms around her, not before reaching for the 'useless' seat belt of hers and making them lie down. All in a blink of an eye.

Followed by the ear drum splitting sound of their vehicle being rear ended towards the end of the tunnel. Into a concrete wall.

Her scream stuck in her throat.

* * *

**A/N: this chapter is definitely different. I guess different rhythm. And this obviously points out that I can't write action scenes to save my life! So, I apologize. For the late update, and the lack of Bourne-rythm-ness this story had before chapter six. **

**I thank those who are still reading this. **

**And for the record, this chapter was going to go a different way but I forgot I hadn't saved the 'changes' in this document and when I exited out of the window, it erased the progress I had. So I had to start from scratch. I hate that. **

**Mayra**

**PS – Why Bourne sent Nikki to get their bags in mid-motion isn't pointless. There's a point. Hopefully, it'll be clarified in chapter 7!!**


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